“And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better. "One of you fly to the market," returned Jonathan; "another to the river; a third to the New Mint. Girls erupted in waves of whispering as soon as she passed them by. ” She looked up at him quickly.
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